


Moving Forward

by ScienceNerds



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, flashbacks are a bitch, mostly just Chris and Mike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:04:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4797083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScienceNerds/pseuds/ScienceNerds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two weeks since they were rescued from the mountain, it's time for Josh's memorial service. The only problem is, Chris can't cope with facing what he experienced. Unable to distinguish between his old reality and that night on the mountain, it takes the words of someone who went through the same thing to help him remember that they survived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving Forward

       Chris didn’t move from the door of the church as Josh’s friends and family passed through. Josh’s photograph, printed across a poster, was staring back at him. He knew he needed to walk in, he needed to do this for Josh. His feet remained planted in place.

       He could remember the photo being taken just last summer. They were leaving for a beach trip when Mrs. Washington snapped the impromptu picture. Sam was just to Josh’s left, and Chris was on the other side of Sam. Chris wondered if Josh was already falling apart then.

       For years he’d known Josh had struggled with depression. It wasn’t a secret for those he was close to. Chris even knew Josh had needed more medication that year. He’d thought it was under control.

       Someone stopped next to Chris and he looked sharply away from Josh. Even as he recognized Jess, Mike, and Sam, so different in their black and formal attire, he could feel his muscles unclench. “Just you guys, huh?”

       Sam touched Chris’ arm lightly and nodded. Eyes glimmering with the sympathetic look she always seemed to wear, she tilted her head and studied Chris’ face. “Are you ok? You looked kind of, uh, zoned out.”

       Before Chris could answer, Mike scoffed in his place. “Jesus Christ, Sam. Yeah, I’m sure he’s doing great.” He wrapped his arm back around Jess, who leaned into him.

       “Mike, please,” Jess looked between the group. “Let’s not do this.” She looked down when Chris met her eyes.

       Their conversation was cut off when Mr. and Mrs. Washington saw the group and rushed to greet them. The two spoke fervently, but the words passed through Chris’ mind without catching. “So glad you came.” “Friends.” “Must be so hard.” His friends might have been responding to the Washingtons as the subject changed. “He was so thoughtful.” “Always so loving.” “Laughing even while in pain.” “So strong.”

       Chris thought he was going to be sick. They didn’t know how weak Josh had been. Mike had told him how Josh died. He’d been hallucinating, confused, afraid. He’d been willing to help. Chris imagined Josh’s head being crushed. Blood, bones, screaming.

       “Going to miss his jokes and pranks so much.”

       Bile rose in Chris’ throat. He had to leave, he couldn’t look at the photograph of his best friend in the building where all three of the Washingtons had been mourned and listen to these words. “I, uh,” Chris shook his head. “He. . . I have to go.”

       Chris ran.

       He only stopped running when he reached the treeline beyond the church’s parking lot. He knew there wasn’t anything out there, there wasn’t any reason to stop. Even if there was something, it was still hours before sundown. Still, he backed up to a tree before sliding to the ground and finally breaking down.

       Chris hid his eyes behind his arms so he wouldn’t imagine a Wendigo in the shadows. He stifled his sobs so nothing would hear him, curled up so nothing would see him, bit his tongue so he wouldn’t scream his rage, fear, grief, guilt.

       Something touched his shoulder. Chris’ body tensed and he froze, praying the monster hadn’t seen him. It was making a sound, soft, but Chris was prepared for the screech so he wouldn’t jump and seal his fate. Nothing happened, but he knew better than to move. It was like the house. Can’t move or it’ll see you, run when you have the chance. It’ll render you immobile and strip the skin from your body but they can’t see you if you’re standing still like toads sight based on change in vision he’s basically invisible don’t even breath.

       The something moved from his shoulder and Chris managed to open his eyes to see if the thing had left. He could see someone next to him and knew it wasn’t gone.

       “Hey, Chris, it’s me. There’s no we - there’s nothing here.”

       The voice was familiar. A hand waved in front of his face, the rough-skinned palm almost hitting his glasses. It wasn’t one of them.

       “Mike,” Chris stated and turned to see his friend crouching beside him, hand still outstretched. “Hey, I, uh,” Words evaded him as he wiped the tears off of his face.

       Neither of them moved at first. Mike broke the silence, stammering slightly. He never used to stammer. “I’m sorry, man, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. Should have known better.” He slid his legs out to lean against the tree. “You keeping it together?”

       Chris couldn’t help but laugh. “What,” he remarked dryly, You worried I’m going to snap and lure you all to a forest in a crazed, psycho revenge trip?” He waved his hand flippantly at the trees.

       “That’s not funny.” Mike’s voice was cold, and his jaw had clenched.

       A tense silence fell between the two. After seeing Mike’s reaction, Chris regretted his words. He knew it was wrong to joke about Josh, guilt was already berating him for being so stupid. He looked down at his fingers. They were turning white as they gripped at his knees. “Do you forgive him?”

       The question took both of them by surprise. Chris saw Mike’s head turn towards him out of the corner of his eye but didn’t meet the gaze. With a sigh, Mike muttered, “I don’t know. I pity him, after seeing him in the mines. . . he didn’t do anything to me like he did you guys. I wonder why he sent me and Jess away. I mean, if anything, he should have blamed me the most.” Mike’s tone turned low and flat as he spoke. Shaking his head, Mike shifted the focus. “Have you?”

       The question was long coming and had been asked inside Chris’ mind so many times. “I don’t know, man. I feel like I should be asking him for forgiveness.” He could feel his throat closing up and wondered if he’d be able to speak without crying again. “After all I did, after I, I let him down.”

       There was a sharp inhale beside him as Mike ran a hand through his hair. “You couldn’t have known, Chris. None of us could have known what he was going through. Sam didn’t know, his parents didn’t.”

       “I’m not talking about the year I missed my best friend having a psychotic break,” Chris snapped at Mike. He didn’t want to hear any more comfort or reassurance, it was all bullshit coming from people who didn’t understand. After taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart, Chris lowered his voice. “As if that wasn’t bad enough. He was my best friend, Mike. I killed him, I fucking chose to kill him and pulled the lever, after I found out he was alive I hit him, and then I killed him again by leaving him for dead. I should have been there for him, Mike.”

       He waited for a response. Shame had infected his body, battling the already-raging emotions for control. When Mike said nothing, Chris looked up from the ground. His friend was staring with a blank expression. “What do you mean, you chose to kill him?”

       Chris had forgotten that none of them willingly shared what they had experienced that night. Mike only knew what he saw in that room with the gun. “Out in the shed, where we tied him up.” The words caught in his throat, he couldn’t say it. The image of the saw tearing through Josh’s stomach kept repeating in front of him. He tried to focus on something to stop the flashback and settled on the root at his feet. It was roughly textured, rising out of the dirt that sloped up around it. “He knocked us out and tied Ashley up. There was this dummy, a mannequin that he filled with pig guts. He stuck his head through the hole and pretended to be tied up too. I found them, his recording played and told me I had to choose who died, Ashley or him. I. . .” The familiar urge to throw up returned. “I chose to save Ashley, the buzz saw just, it just tore through the dummy. He was screaming, said we were supposed to be friends. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t real, I chose to let him die and saw him get cut in half.”

       His voice resonated in the quiet air. There was a pit in his stomach and an insuppressible hatred for anyone who would hurt Josh.

       Mike swore under his breath. “Chris, he gave you an impossible choice. We all did things that night, we were scared and trying to survive. Christ, I almost shot Emily. You went back for him despite everything he did, you’re a better friend than Josh deserved.”

       “I thought I was going to die so many times that night, man.” Now that he’d started, Chris couldn’t stop talking. His mind rambled from thought to thought without coherence. “I put a gun to my head and pulled the fucking trigger. Seeing that old man die, running from the wendigos, the wendigos, man. I can’t look at a shadow without thinking I see one. Jurassic Park was on TV last week and when I heard the raptor, I locked myself in the bathroom for an hour.” A weak laugh broke his train of thought and he glanced back at MIke. “How do you keep so together?”

       MIke scoffed. His hands kept drifting from place to place, hovering on his mouth, shoulder, wringing together. “I haven’t been sober for more than an hour since that night. I keep seeing it. It’s so messed up, Chris. Thinking Jess was dead, seeing the shit in the sanitarium, just running and running. I can’t turn that part of my brain off, every single second is survival mode. It’s like I’m always waiting for something to finish us off. I can only sleep because I keep the gun by my bed and a lighter in my pocket.” His hands finally stopped at his pocket and patted at it.

       Chris didn’t know what to say. They were both tense, barely restraining the fear and grief that had ingrained itself into their lives. Mike hadn’t sounded so raw since that night.

       “We survived.” The statement hung in the air. He had to say it to believe the fact. “We made it out together, survived together. Nobody believes us, we only have each other now. If it weren’t for you guys, I’d probably believe what they say. That it was all some coping thing.”

       Mike shook his head. “It was real. We have the scars to prove it. We can’t let the truth die. For that fire guy, for Josh, for Beth and Hannah. We’ll keep going, it’s the least we can do.” His voice grew stronger as he spoke and Chris could see his determination return.

       The mutual assurance allowed Chris to relax his arms. He smirked, glancing sidelong at Mike. “After all, all together we took down seven wendigos. I’d like to see someone try and stop us.”

       Mike rolled his eyes. Bracing himself against the tree, he pulled himself back to his feet. “Please, I’m the one who actually took them down. You just ran.” He began sauntering back to the building.

       They had returned to their usual state. Avoiding the memories, treating their shared past as a game or not bringing it up at all.

       “Yeah, you’re a real hero.” Chris joined Mike, favoring his ankle again. He must have overworked it while running.

       The memories of Josh, Hannah, and Beth returned as he looked out to where Jess and Sam were standing against the church wall. This time, at least for now, his mind didn’t repeat the speculations on their death. It was their first meeting, their hiking trips, teaching the girls to game, and the bloodless pranks they used to pull that he thought of. The two continued through the grass in silence, only once glancing back at the trees they left behind.


End file.
